Passing the ball, from one generation to the next

There’s no glamour, but the competition is as fierce as it gets. Two teams battle it out on the rugged pitch while spectators of all ages cheer, their shouts and chants echoing from the terraces overlooking the field. When a scuffle breaks out, a player from the visiting side crashes to the ground. Clutching his head in agony, he threatens to fetch his gun from the car to right the perceived injustice.

Filmmaker Dimitris Koutsiabasakos returns to his native village of Armatoliko, nestled in the southwestern slopes of the Pindos mountain range, to document the annual makeshift soccer tournament that unites – and divides – the settlements of this remote region of northwestern Greece.

“I attended a match years ago and was struck by how unique it was – not just as a sporting event but as a window into the place and its people,” says the 58-year-old director of “The Goals of August,” his latest documentary. “The improvised organization, the lively crowd with its humor and sharp-witted commentary, the strong participation from village residents, and the players’ relentless passion for victory – all of these elements gave the tournament a distinct character that deserved to be captured.” The film debuted at the Thessaloniki International Documentary Festival (TiDF) earlier this month and is now seeking theatrical distribution.

The matches, leading up to the controversial ending, build suspense and provide structure to the film. More crucially, however, they serve as a lens through which Koutsiabasakos examines contemporary rural Greece.

Filmed over two years in Armatoliko, the documentary exposes the stark contrast between seasons: In winter, the village is nearly deserted, home to only a handful of elderly residents tending to their livestock, vegetable gardens, churches, and cemeteries. But in summer, for a few fleeting weeks, life returns as younger urbanites reunite with their parents and grandparents. The village becomes a meeting point of generations, where youth, middle age, and old age converge. The gathering naturally culminates on the Assumption of the Virgin Mary, right in the middle of August – the month that distills the essence of Greek summer into its most condensed, authentic, almost metaphysical form.

‘What I find hopeful – and what the film highlights – is that when people return to the village, they instinctively revive aspects of a “traditional community”’

The movie never fails to underscore the predominance of nature and the closeness of human life to it, a theme further highlighted by Koutsiabasakos’ wide-angle directorial approach. “I wanted the landscape to dominate every shot,” he says, explaining that the broad field of view best encompasses the scenery and the sense of teamwork. The soccer field itself, somewhat surreal as it sits among mountain slopes covered in fir and oak trees, serves as a recurring establishing shot. In one of the film’s most beautiful scenes, two boys search for a lost ball after a stray shot, combing through the tall grass on the hillside at the field’s edge.

Eventually, they find it. The scene could serve as a visual metaphor for a documentary that asks: What has been lost from communal rural life, and what remains to be found?

“My goal was to explore exactly that,” Koutsiabasakos agrees. “What I find hopeful – and what the film highlights – is that when people return to the village, they instinctively revive aspects of a ‘traditional community.’ They don’t isolate themselves; instead, they engage in collective activities, participate in religious and social events, and interact face-to-face within a framework of solidarity.”

Indeed, we see women herding goats, baking pies, chatting in houseyards, and preparing churches for memorials and festivals. When not busy organizing the soccer tournament, men perform public utility maintenance, engage in construction work, gather herbs from the surrounding slopes, or – when necessary – slaughter an ill-fated goat. Meanwhile, young children, their digital screens set aside, roam freely in the vast outdoors. “Being outdoors in a safe environment allows them to form groups easily and engage in traditional games – just as their parents did when they were young,” the director says.

‘I wanted to show that soccer reveals aspects of community life that are far from idyllic – sometimes contradictory, even dark. That, too, is part of communal living’

Koutsiabasakos avoids romanticizing village life. Instead, he captures its contradictions and complexities. “I wanted to show that soccer reveals aspects of community life that are far from idyllic – sometimes contradictory, even dark. That, too, is part of communal living,” he explains. Rather than reflecting modern sports fanaticism, he sees the intensity and violence of the matches as an outlet for long-standing rivalries between villages – “tensions that have existed for generations and now find new expression through the tournament.”

“The desire to win for one’s village – to prove ‘my village is the best’ – is deeply rooted,” he says. “For young players, these games are a way to express and reaffirm their connection to home. The idea that villages were once free of rivalries and disputes is, in my opinion, a myth. These tensions have always existed – just in different forms.” And while the players argue on the field, they later gather at the village’s few social spots and reconcile.

Koutsiabasakos, who studied film and TV direction at the prestigious VGIK film school in Moscow, now teaches film direction at the School of Film at the Aristotle University of Thessaloniki in northern Greece. This is not the first time the director has returned to the place he was born in 1967 with his camera. Among his past projects is the award-winning 1998 documentary short “Hercules, Acheloos and My Granny,” which tells the story of his 89-year-old grandmother, whose village was set to be submerged due to the Acheloos River diversion project, aimed at irrigating the Thessaly plain. This heartwarming, multilayered film weaves together historical, familial and personal trauma against the backdrop of an impending environmental catastrophe. In 2023, he released the prize-winning and career-defining “The Grocer,” which follows a traveling retailer and his wife, who have followed the same route every week for over 30 years. Starting from the city of Trikala in central Greece, they drive their truck through the remote villages of the southwestern Pindos mountains, covering a 75-kilometer route. The film affectionately reveals that their role extends beyond simply selling fruit and vegetables.

“What perhaps draws me back to my place of origin is not so much a sense of nostalgia but rather a need to answer questions that concern me – and, I believe, those around me as well. Questions such as: What is the meaning of human connection? Of solidarity? Of teamwork? Of belonging somewhere? I believe that returning to my homeland offers answers to these questions,” he says.

Whether or not those answers are found, it surely remains a special homeland to return to.